


How to Start a Career in War

by 23_bears



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Canon-compliant swearing, Clones, Original Character Death(s), Swearing, clones deserve better!!!, please enjoy my strange sons and combative daughter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-20
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:02:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 18,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26014711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/23_bears/pseuds/23_bears
Summary: Padawan Veekah Bala was nearing the end of her Jedi training when the war broke out. Just like that, she found herself in command of the 71st Reconnaissance Battalion alongside her Master. The clones trained their entire lives for this war, but the Jedi were never meant to be soldiers. It's a rough road from being a Padawan to eventually becoming the General of the 118th Special Forces Battalion.
Comments: 7
Kudos: 16





	1. The Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this fic because I was thinking about how some things might work in the Star Wars universe (which I won't go into right now because that would be spoilers), and then I got really into creating my two battalions of clones. If you're here for clones, stick around for a few chapters and you won't be disappointed.
> 
> This chapter's purpose is mostly character introduction. It's also a bit uneventful, but I promise it gets more interesting!

The galaxy can be a dangerous place. This is something that Veek knows well; it’s been drilled into her brain since she was very young. Every youngling is taught that Jedi are keepers of the peace, and one day, they’re sent out into the galaxy to do their duty. No one who grows up in the Jedi Temple has any illusions about how safe the galaxy is. Catastrophe can strike at any moment.

But that doesn’t mean that Veek’s ready to cope with a plant that must have come straight from her nightmares.

Her master sent her out to purchase a potted plant (“To brighten up our living space and expand our horizons, my young padawan!”) since _apparently_ this plant is hard to come by and _apparently_ her master’s been on the lookout for any opportunity to study a live specimen. It’s not that Veek has any problems with plants or nature (she’s a Jedi and a togruta, for Force’s sake), but her master’s taste in plant life is kriffing _terrible_. The pot is nearly the size of Veek’s entire head and probably weighs twice as much, but she can’t hold it too close to her body or it starts to chew on her lekku. Thankfully, the flesh-eating plant is still young and can’t do much real damage. Yet.

The plant, which seemed content to munch on her extremities like a teething toddler, was destined for a spot in her master’s quarters, so it was guaranteed that Veek would never really be free of it. At this point, she had resigned herself to a fate of existing in close proximity to the plant, but that didn’t stop her from being at least slightly concerned about how this plant isn’t anywhere near its adult size.

“This is absurd,” she muttered to herself. “Can you believe that I actually had to _barter_ with that twi’lek botanist for you?”

That last part was directed at the plant. Unsurprisingly, though it has a mouth (and thorns, and razor-sharp leaves, and a stem like a skinny tree trunk, and _teeth_ ), it didn’t respond.

Coruscant’s regular speeder traffic whirred past Veek as she passed through crowds upon crowds of people who all seemed incapable of doing little else aside from staring at her and her admittedly very strange plant. She kept her head held high, almost as a challenge for anyone to make a rude comment because she certainly felt ridiculous walking past places of business, throngs of fellow pedestrians, and an embassy or two with a flesh-eating potted plant held at arm’s length. Fortunately, everyone was content to give Veek and her nightmare plant a wide berth and pretend that they didn’t see anything.

The Jedi Temple was within sight when Veek heard light, pattering steps some ways down an alley. She threw a quick glance to her right, down the alley, and just barely noticed a flash of purple fur before it disappeared behind a dumpster. Her gaze flicked back and forth between the Temple rising high over the skyline and the grimy alley for several moments before curiosity got the better of her. Carefully, so as not to step in something gross or drop the plant, she approached the dumpster. Around the corner of the dumpster furthest from where Veek entered the alley sat a tooka. He seemed indifferent to the presence of the young togruta and her plant companion and continued to lick at his paw.

The tooka seemed content to remain where he was, but his lack of reaction seemed atypical of a stray. Veek doubted that he hadn’t noticed her, so he was probably accustomed to being near people. And that might mean that he’s someone’s lost pet.

Veek set the plant down on the dumpster’s cover, then leaned as close to the tooka as she could without spooking him. Upon closer inspection, the tooka had a collar with an attached name tag. The collar was a deep blue with an intricate swirling pattern embroidered into the collar’s material. It looked incredibly well-made. _He must belong to someone on the upper levels_ , Veek thought with a sigh.

People on the upper levels have a tendency to be, if Veek’s putting it kindly, the _worst_. Regardless, she’s not going to ignore a lost pet. Someone probably misses him, and he deserves to be back with his family.

“Sorry, Master. Your plant will have to wait.”

Veek reached out to pick up the tooka, and at that moment, he turned and clawed at her with an accompanying growl. Veek quickly withdrew her arms. _It was a dumb plan anyways_ , she thought as she sat on the ground to scrutinize the tooka. “Don’t want anyone touching you, huh?”

The tooka blinked at her, then meowed in response.

“Yeah, I should have assumed that was the case.”

The tooka blinked again.

“You know, I only want to help. Clearly, you have a home somewhere, and they’re probably missing you right about now. If you just trust me for a few minutes, I can help you get back home.”

The tooka seemed like it was listening to her words, but Veek couldn’t really tell if he understood anything she said or if he was staring at her because she was making noise. Maybe she could —

_Growl_.

Veek’s train of thought came to a screeching halt as her stomach made a noise like a dying nexu.

“Kriff, I forgot breakfast this morning.” Sighing once again, Veek dug through one of the pouches on her belt and, after a few moments, pulled out a protein bar. Veek quickly unwrapped it, and just as she bared her teeth to take a bite, she was interrupted by a very insistent _meow_. Veek shifted her gaze back to the tooka, who had now scooted himself closer to her. His green-grey eyes looked at her expectantly.

“Oh, you’re hungry!” Veek smiled, breaking off a chunk of her protein bar. “Why didn’t you just say so?”

She tossed the piece to the tooka, who snatched it straight out of the air and swallowed it almost without chewing. He then pushed up against her leg. Carefully, Veek reached out a hand to let him give the okay to pet him. He didn’t object, and Veek began to stroke his soft fur.

Finally, he was close enough for his tag to be readable.

“Grandpa Dwight? That’s... different.”

Said tooka meowed in response, as if telling her off for not thinking that his name was the best.

“Well, this address isn’t far, so I’ll just take you there and be on my way.”

With that, Veek set off with plant in hand and Grandpa Dwight at her heels (it seems that doing something as small as giving him a bit of food meant that he was now attached to her). A few minutes later, Veek arrived at the address and —

“Grandpa Dwight! You found him!”

A young, well-dressed tholothian girl was sprinting towards the tooka (and Veek) at full speed. Grandpa Dwight, who sat calmly beside Veek, seemed unphased by this girl and made no objection when she scooped him up and hugged him tightly.

“I missed you so much. We’ve been looking all over for you.” She held Grandpa Dwight out in front of her, hands under his front legs with his paws sticking straight out towards her. “Don’t ever do that to me again. I was so worried!”

Then, the girl shifted her attention to Veek. “Thanks for finding him!” When she noticed Veek’s lightsaber, her eyes widened almost comically. “Ooh, wait, you’re a Jedi! A Jedi brought Grandpa Dwight back home!”

Veek smiled at her. “It was my pleasure. I’m Veek. What’s your name?”

“I’m Sovi!” she chirped.

“Sovi, you and Grandpa Dwight stay out of trouble.” Veek glanced at the Temple’s towers that rose high above the surrounding buildings. “I should head back to the Temple now. I’m already late as-is.”

Sovi pouted. “Aw, but Grandpa Dwight likes you, and he _never_ likes _anybody_. He’ll miss you!”

A slight twinge of guilt nagged at Veek, but she really did need to get back to the Temple. “Sorry, Sovi, but I need to go now. I’m sure Grandpa Dwight will be just fine without me. And plus—” Veek gestured to the plant “—my master _really_ wants this nightmare plant as soon as possible.”

Sovi seemed to just now notice the plant for the first time. “Oh. Why is it a nightmare plant?”

Exactly on cue, the plant snapped at the two girls. Sovi let out a small scream, and Veek’s eyes felt ready to pop out of their sockets with how wide they opened. Fortunately, they were both fine because Veek is a kickass Jedi who has trained since she was a toddler for this extremely specific situation since the Order absolutely anticipated that this would be a common problem among its padawans.

“I think I’ll be going now,” Veek said haltingly. “Stay safe, Sovi!”

With as much of a wave as she dared with her plant (she’s thinking of calling it Wallace), she departed once again for the Temple, all while silently chanting, “I will not be distracted.”

* * *

Wallace earned her many more strange looks from the various Jedi and Padawans roaming the Temple (Veek was tempted to stick her tongue out at them but restrained herself). Veek was now only a short distance from her Master’s quarters and would soon be free of Wallace. Not that she didn’t love Wallace and his plant brethren, but a person can only withstand being chewed on for so long.

Suddenly, the door slid open to reveal the imposing figure of Jedi Master Kiggadam Dozott.

Most people who have never interacted with Master Dozott are intimidated by him. Even for a lasat, he is quite tall, and his resting facial expression gives you the feeling that he’s evaluating the very contents of your soul. His sharp, gold gaze never seemed to miss anything, and the very thought of lying to him was enough to have any padawan shaking. He is only more imposing in sparring matches when you are forced to look him in the eyes with the knowledge that he is one of the most accomplished swordsmen in the Order.

But Veek knows he’s a dork. He’s goofy and forgetful, but he does have his serious moments. Master Dozott’s personality is rather eccentric, and it took some getting used to on Veek’s part when he first selected her as his padawan eight years ago. As a fearful nine-year-old, she almost didn’t recover from the massive shock caused by the unexpected difference between how he looks and how he acts.

“Master!” Veek greeted with a grin. “I’ve got your plant.”

The moment he laid his eyes on his beloved Padawan, his face brightened considerably. “Ah, my thanks, Veekah. I’ve been waiting for a chance to study the Felucian trap plant!”

Master Dozott reached out for Wallace, and Veek, careful to keep Wallace an acceptable distance from her person, placed the plant in his hands. Being a species that doesn’t have long growths out of its head, he had the good fortune of not needing to worry about it biting anything attached to his skull. Watching Master Dozott tuck Wallace under his arm, Veek felt a pang of jealousy at his lack of lekku while she flicked one of hers back into place.

“Master, I was under the impression that you would still be busy when I got back. Did something happen?”

“Hm? Oh, yes, I nearly forgot! We are needed urgently on Geonosis to assist in rescuing Master Kenobi.”

That threw Veek off. She had heard through the grapevine that there had been attempts on Senator Amidala’s life and that Master Kenobi and his Padawan were supposed to be protecting her. The most recent news was that Master Kenobi was searching for a planet that didn’t seem to exist, no matter how hard he looked. “Wait, wasn’t he looking for some planet called Kamino? How did he end up on Geonosis? And _rescue_ him? From what?”

“Well, Master Kenobi found Kamino, along with the bounty hunter that’s been trying to assassinate Senator Amidala. It seems that he was captured when he trailed the bounty hunter to Geonosis. Padawan Skywalker and Senator Amidala took it upon themselves to rescue him.” Master Dozott quickly ducked into his quarters to set the plant down in a small alcove he had cleared out for it. “It didn’t go exactly as planned, and we were assigned to the strike team to save them.”

Veek blinked in surprise. “Did this just happen?”

Master Dozott nodded. “Yes, the Council received word not long ago and has since been putting together a rescue mission.” He checked the time. “Our transport is set to leave soon. Do you have everything you need?”

“Um… lightsaber, rations, comlink, goggles...” as Veek listed each item, she patted its location on her person. “I think so?”

That came out more as a question than a statement because _by the Force_ how is Veek supposed to be prepared for an impromptu trip all the way to the Outer Rim Territories? Master Dozott _definitely_ could have commed her about this earlier instead of springing it on her right now.

Master Dozott patted (read: _smacked_ ) Veek’s back with almost enough force to send her face-first into the ground. “Then let us depart, Veekah!”

Master and Padawan quickly made their way to the Temple’s hangar where the transports bound for Geonosis awaited them. Compared to when Veek re-entered the Temple from her errand, the grand halls of the Jedi Temple now felt eerily empty even though the actual number of Jedi milling around was unchanged. Many of the other Jedi were likely preparing to leave or had already left for Geonosis, but it was almost as if the building itself was giving some kind of warning for what the future held. Veek could only hope that whatever happens, everything will turn out alright. It has to, right?

“By the way, before I forget, Master Yoda will arrive later with reinforcements from Kamino.”

Veek raised a brow. “Reinforcements? What kind of reinforcements?”


	2. Zero Hour

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The interior of Petranaki Arena wasn’t yet visible, but it was obviously packed with geonosians. Even before reaching the end of the tunnel that led to the arena’s stands, the cacophonous cheering carried through the air, pushing back against Veek. It made her wish that she had ears so she could cover them.

Veek had never been to Geonosis before, and from what she’s seen, she hadn’t been missing out. The climate is hot and dry, the surface is covered in dust, and the dominant species are  _ bugs _ . Ugh. Just thinking about it made her shudder.

The interior of Petranaki Arena wasn’t yet visible, but it was obviously packed with geonosians. Even before reaching the end of the tunnel that led to the arena’s stands, the cacophonous cheering carried through the air, pushing back against Veek. It made her wish that she had ears so she could cover them.

The noise sucked, but at least it meant she didn’t need to worry much about being noticed.

When she was close to the tunnel’s exit, Veek reached up and pulled her goggles down into place. That way, when she situated herself at the mouth of the tunnel, right at the border between sunlight and shadows, the sun didn’t completely blind her.

It’s times like these on bright, sunny planets where she’s incredibly ungrateful to have eyes that are more suited to low light environments.

The geonosians’ wordless cheering was suddenly punctured by the characteristic clicks of spoken Geonosian. Whatever was said caused the crowd to quiet down. In the near silence, Veek carefully peaked out into the arena. Among the geonosian crowd directly opposite of where she hid was a balcony that jutted out away from the stands. On the balcony stood a geonosian who was probably Poggle the Lesser. Sharing the balcony with him were what looked like Count Dooku, two neimoidians, a mandalorian decked out in armor, and a short person who could be a child, but it was all kind of hard to tell from her position.

Poggle said something else in Geonosian, and the loud cheering started anew. What a shame; Veek was just getting used to the quiet.

The screeching of metal gates cut through the noise of the crowd, and the geonosians on the arena floor approached the gaping darkness of the now-open gates. Slowly, three creatures emerged from the shadows and released their unnerving roars, all while nearby geonosians jabbed them with some kind of polearm to maintain control.

First to step into the bright sunlight was the reek, a creature with red and grey skin and three horns sprouting from its head. Next, the acklay, a large green creature with six legs that made for a very unsettling crustacean. Last, the nexu, a feline with four eyes, sharp quills, and sharper claws.

When the nexu leapt at a nearby geonosian and clamped down on them with its powerful jaw, Veek felt a twinge of sympathy. She had never faced a nexu before (though she has heard that the battle is a tough one), but she did kill a similar predator, an akul, when she was 13.

Poor geonosian.

The geonosians on the arena floor herded the reek, acklay, and nexu towards the intended targets of what was clearly supposed to be an execution. The other Jedi on the strike team had voiced their concerns about this engagement, but no one had predicted an execution. It felt like everything had just become far messier than anticipated.

Resistance had been expected, but this seemed… dishonorable. Having gladiatorial beasts kill your prisoners for you? It looked like a coward’s way out, especially for a capable warrior such as Dooku. Even if Dooku didn’t want to get his hands dirty, he happened to have an army at his disposal and could have easily arranged for Senator Amidala, Master Kenobi, and Padawan Skywalker to go down fighting. But no.

The Jedi rescuers were supposed to await Master Windu’s signal before making themselves known, but watching dangerous creatures approach their restrained targets did not inspire confidence in that plan. All this waiting was really starting to become a problem.

Veek wasn’t sure why she took the time to look around the arena, trying to catch a glimpse of any of the other 211 Jedi. Perhaps for reassurance that  _ yes, this is indeed the plan _ . Or perhaps to be comforted by the sight of Master Dozott.

It didn’t matter much in the end since she couldn’t pick out a single Jedi. Sithspit, her eyes really do suck.

As she unclipped her lightsaber from her belt, Veek took a deep breath. The familiar weight of her lightsaber was reassuring, and it helped to calm her nerves.  _ We’ll save them. I know it. I just need to be patient and trust the masters. _

The creatures started attacking their targets. Veek’s knuckles turned a pale purple as she squeezed her lightsaber hilt. Watching the acklay swipe its legs at Master Kenobi, the reek charge Padawan Skywalker, and the nexu claw Senator Amidala was nerve-racking, to put it lightly. They were each able to use their respective creatures’ attack to free themselves, and beyond that, they seemed to fare just fine (in fact, they were now all mounted on the reek). But time to act was running out. Even if the three of them were able to take care of the creatures, they still had the geonosians and Dooku’s droids to contend with.

Almost as if on cue, droidekas rolled out from nowhere to surround the group of three. Still no signal from Master Windu.  _ Kriff, Master Windu, if not now, when? _

Then she saw it. The unmistakable purple glow of Master Windu’s lightsaber was impossible to miss, even from so far away in such a hazy atmosphere. Nearly as one, the Jedi revealed themselves and ignited their lightsabers. Without a moment’s hesitation, Veek ignited her lightsaber and launched herself from the audience’s seating to the arena floor. She rolled when she hit the ground and immediately popped up to her feet with her lightsaber held at the ready.

Veek spared a moment to try and locate Master Dozott. Unsurprisingly, she couldn’t find him. Anxiety prodded at the back of her mind, but she shoved it away.

_ He’ll be fine. _

I’ll  _ be fine. _

Mere seconds passed before complete chaos broke out. Suddenly, every geonosian in Petranaki Arena was mobile, and more battle droids than Veek had ever seen in one place rushed to counter the Jedi. Clutching her lightsaber close to her body, she prepared for the onslaught.

All her life, Veek had never once thought she would fight alongside so many of her fellow Jedi. Outside of the Temple on Coruscant, they rarely gather in such large numbers. Ten Jedi together was nearly unheard of. But 212 Jedi? That’s certainly one for the history books. And Veek was right in the middle of it.

She smiled at the thought.

Blaster bolts ripped through the air. With practiced swipes of her blue blade, Veek deflected the bolts straight back towards the battle droids. Pride rushed through her with each battle droid that crumpled to the ground.

“Strong start,” she muttered to herself.

And just like that, her mind was in combat mode.  _ Focus on what’s happening now. It’s all that matters until this is over. _

Veek deflected blaster bolts and cut down droids left and right. Always the exemplary student of lightsaber combat, she skillfully moved from target to target, cutting them down in seconds before moving to the next. Many of the droids were startlingly frail and went down easily.

In focusing so intently on combat, Veek failed to notice that the Jedi were being forced to the center of the arena. They were losing. There couldn’t be any more than twenty left out of the enormous strike force that had departed from Coruscant just a short while ago. How had a large group of skilled Jedi been almost completely destroyed in so little time?

Veek became uncomfortably aware of how fast her heart was pounding.

The battle suddenly felt impossible. Victory had slipped from their grasp and wandered too far out of reach. The Jedi were completely surrounded, the majority of their entire fighting force had been killed, and the droids just  _ didn’t stop _ . No matter how many droids each Jedi cut down, it seemed that three more took its place. On top of that, Master Dozott was nowhere to be seen, which must have meant that he was dead. If Master Dozott, Jedi Master and expert combatant, hadn’t survived, what hope did the rest of them have?

And where was Master Yoda with their reinforcements? They should have been here by now… unless they encountered trouble and won’t be coming.

Kriff.

In spite of the futility of it all, the Jedi kept fighting. Veek was never one to give up, even if every single molecule of her body screamed at her to stop. She would rather die than give up on a fight that isn’t yet lost, even if it felt hopeless.

And then the fight stopped.

Every droid pulled back its weapon, making it impossible for them to shoot.

Were they… surrendering? No, that can’t be it ー it would be all too easy for them to keep bombarding the Jedi and eliminate the survivors. Some sort of trap, then? But the droids have the numbers. They don’t need any tricks. Perhaps Count Dooku is planning something else? Maybe ー

With her heart threatening to break out of her ribcage, Veek, almost too suspicious to take her eyes off the droids, spared a quick glance around at the Jedi Masters around her. Hopefully, they picked up on  _ something _ . But they all seemed just as suspicious and just as hesitant to focus on anything but the battle droids.

“Master Windu!” Count Dooku began, his voice ringing out across the arena from his position on the balcony. “You have fought gallantly. Worthy of recognition in the archives of the Jedi Order.”

Off to her right, the sea of droids parted to allow two people to be pushed through. Veek vaguely recognized the blue twi’lek (Master Secura, if she remembers correctly) and immediately recognized the towering purple-and-grey-striped lasat behind the twi’lek. Veek couldn’t stop herself from smiling and berating herself.  _ Of course he’s alive, you idiot. You’d feel it in the Force if he wasn’t. _

Veek’s excitement that Master Dozott was okay momentarily overshadowed her concern regarding the impending doom of the survivors of the strike force, but the sound of Count Dooku’s voice yanked her back to the current situation.

“Now, it is finished. Surrender, and your lives will be spared.”

“We will  _ not _ be hostages to be bartered, Dooku,” Master Windu spat out.  _ Hell yes, Master Windu, you tell him. _

“Then… I’m sorry, old friend.” At least Dooku had the decency to appear upset about issuing the order to have Jedi, the very people that used to be his family, executed.

Immediately, the battle droids pointed their blasters at the Jedi once more. Out of so many Jedi, so few were left, but the droid forces were endless. Veek didn’t see any way out of this. At least, not any way that was pleasant if Master Yoda and his mysterious reinforcements didn’t arrive soon.

The air was tense in the moments before the shooting started again. The Jedi raised their lightsabers back into ready positions, prepared to continue the fight at all costs.

For a terrifying few seconds, nothing happened. Until ー

“Look!”

The unmistakable whirring of gunships in flight filled the air. A wave of relief swept over Veek as she looked up to see Republic gunships descending into the arena. Far above the gunships, the enormous silhouettes of Republic star destroyers high in the sky cast their shadows onto the dunes of Geonosis. Their reinforcements had arrived. Senator Amidala and the Jedi would live to fight another day.

Three gunships swept across the arena, firing on the army of battle droids. The battle droids retaliated, and combat was revived in the blink of an eye. Veek was more than ready to fight again. She deflected bolt after bolt, but restrained herself from anything aggressive since the situation was already precarious enough. Combat is fun and all (especially  _ real _ combat, not the sad imitations of real combat that are part of Jedi training), but Veek isn’t stupid.

The gunships created a perimeter around the survivors as the pilots brought the ships down to land. Their doors were wide open, and impossible numbers of soldiers wearing white plastoid armor seemed to spill out from inside. They returned fire at the battle droids as the survivors made their way to the gunships. Veek, lightsaber still activated, sprinted to the nearest gunship while deflecting any incoming blaster fire. As she neared the white-armored soldiers, she almost stopped to stare but thought better of it.  _ Probably time for that later when I’m not about to die _ , she thought as she hopped onto the gunship.

It was currently occupied by Masters Yoda, Windu, Fisto, and Mundi. Masters Mundi and Windu were busy deflecting incoming blasterfire on one side of the gunship to provide some cover for the other Jedi and the white-armored soldiers, while Master Fisto held his ground on the other side.

Just as Veek rushed to join Master Fisto, she spotted Master Dozott. He was headed to one of the other gunships.

“Master!” Veek called out, her voice just barely cutting through the cacophony in the arena. Luckily, it looked like he heard her, and he made his way to the gunship that Veek was on. Despite the current situation, it was still amusing to watch him compress his tall frame into the standard-sized gunship.

“How are you doing, Veekah?”

“Oh, you know,” Veek responded as she continued deflecting red blaster bolts, “just experienced the fear of impending death at the hands of a droid army. The usual.”

Master Dozott nodded sagely. “Yes, that was rather scary. How do you feel about it now?”

“Um…” The battle raged on around the perimeter of gunships as the Jedi finished boarding, but they weren’t exactly safe yet. “I feel like right now isn’t the best time for this conversation, Master.”

Master Fisto may or may not have chuckled when she said that.

“That’s my padawan, always on top of the situation!”

The urge to roll her eyes was great. Since Veek was wearing goggles that made it impossible for anyone to see her eyes, she was able to indulge that urge.

With the surviving Jedi safely aboard the gunships, the white-armored soldiers rapidly returned to their gunships as the pilots prepared for takeoff. Within moments, the gunships were in the air. As the gunship ferried her away, Veek almost stuck her tongue out at Petranaki Arena but decided that the dust in her mouth wouldn’t be worth it.

* * *

The purple togruta was staring at him. Her eyes weren’t visible through her goggles, but he still felt her gaze practically burning holes through his armor. Every time he flicked his eyes back in her direction, there she was. Staring. Her facial markings reminded him vaguely of a human skull, which did absolutely nothing to help him feel more comfortable in her presence. He was thankful to have his helmet on so that he didn’t feel guilty about not making eye contact and doing his best to keep a watchful eye on the battle raging all across the surface of Geonosis.

Their landing zone was fast approaching (he’s still not happy with whoever decided that he and his men got to be stuck with one of the landing zones farthest away from where they picked up the two Jedi). With any luck, he would be able to escape this awkward situation and get to doing what he was made for: fighting for the Republic. Interacting with Jedi was foreign territory for all the clones, and trying to avoid getting on the bad side of one of his new commanding officers was causing him a lot of stress that he could certainly do without.

And he hadn’t even  _ started  _ fighting yet.

“What’s your name?” asked a young voice, practically shouting in order to be heard over the noise of the surrounding skirmishes and the gunship.

He looked at the togruta (intentionally and purposefully, this time). Her almost skull-like white facial markings were less off-putting now that he looked at her straight. Her purple skin matched well with the white and blue (Or teal? Maybe blue-green? He couldn’t quite decide what to call that color.) striped pattern of her montrals, and he honestly felt like her facial markings tied her whole appearance together. But he did find it a little jarring that the blue, pointed tips of her montrals were just barely in line with his eyes. She was probably the shortest person he’s ever seen for someone of her age. “It’s Pike, sir. Captain Pike... sir.”

She smiled at him, showing her togruta canines. “Nice to meet you, Pike! I’m Veekah Bala, but you can just call me Veek.”

“Veekah, it’s time to go!” shouted the imposing lasat who also happened to be his other new commanding officer. The gunship had touched down. General Dozott was the first one out. Commander Bala glanced at Pike again and smiled once more before following General Dozott. Without hesitation, Pike and his men of the 71st Reconnaissance Battalion followed their general and commander into battle for the first time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof, I meant to post this chapter earlier, but school sort of got in the way. Sorry about that. But I hope you enjoyed the chapter and the first of my many clone sons :)


	3. The 71st Battalion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The war has been raging on for a few months already, and the 71st is itching for a combat deployment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey look at that, I finally found some free time to add this chapter! This is the chapter where plot things actually start to happen, so brace yourselves.

The _Stormspike_ was kriffing _enormous_. It was bigger than any ship Veek had ever been on before, and she’ll be damned if she doesn’t take full advantage of her time onboard. Who knows how long this war will last or how long the 71st battalion will be stationed on the _Stormspike_? Veek only has so much time to learn all of the ship’s ins and outs.

Which was why she was sitting on the floor of the ship’s server room with her personal datapad plugged directly into the _Stormspike_ ’s servers. Detailed documents on the layout of the _Stormspike_ were challenging to find (probably because Venator-class Star Destroyers are essential Republic military craft and exposing their blueprints could have consequences), and there’s nowhere better to download a shipwide map than the ship’s own central servers.

Getting into the ship’s files hadn’t been too challenging, but now Veek was faced with a dizzying number of files to search through. According to the labels on the hard drives, it was safe to assume that the files Veek was looking at took up just over an exabyte of space. The biggest problem now was finding the specific file where the map of the star destroyer is. The first thing she did after establishing the connection between her datapad and the servers was open the External Drives folder on her datapad. That was the easy part. After that, she was presented with a staggering number of individual folders. All of them probably had subfolders upon subfolders upon subfolders. Just scrolling through the list, Veek knew that it would take _days_ to sift through every possible set of subfolders.

“Alright, map, where are you?” she muttered, scanning through the names of the folders as she scrolled by. “Because if I were a map of the layout for a Venator-class star destroyer, I’d be… here.”

She clicked on the folder labelled “Blueprints”. If that folder doesn’t contain the blueprints for the _Stormspike_ ’s layout, Veek will lose her pfassk. Sifting through the remaining exabyte of data to find one incredibly specific file in order to learn the ship’s architectural secrets sounds like literally one of the worst things she could be doing.

“What is this monstrosity?” Veek asked haltingly.

“Blueprints” contained _way_ too many files. Why are there so kriffing many? Where the hell did they come from? What piece of sithspit is out there clogging this folder up with hundreds of files, making it _really_ hard to find one specific file? This is all just poor data management, in Veek’s opinion.

… There were a lot of files, okay?

Veek scanned through the massive list of files, keeping her eyes peeled for anything that seemed even slightly map-like. After a few minutes of scrolling, the name “Ship Layout” caught her eye.

“If you aren’t what I think you are, I’m going to find the person whose fault this is, fight them, and then manually reorganize this entire exabyte of files,” Veek said under her breath as she opened the file.

“Who are you fighting?”

Looming behind Veek was the 2.44-meter-tall form of Master Dozott. Ugh, that’s embarrassing ー he snuck up on her while she had her full attention on the datapad, but oh well, people make mistakes. And it’s not like Master Dozott has nefarious intentions; he’s just her goofy master.

“At the moment, Master, no one,” Veek responded, craning her neck to look him in the eye. “But that could change.”

A flicker of the datapad’s screen caught Veek’s eye. She glanced down at the datapad and grinned triumphantly: this file was exactly the one she was looking for. Quickly, she clicked the button to download the file to her datapad’s hard drive. Success!

“Veekah, Jedi do not enter combat with others over something so trivial. We’reー”

“ーPeacekeepers. I know, but no worries, Master. I was just filling the silence, and you know I would never disrespect you and the Order by using your training in a way that reflects poor judgement.”

Master Dozott sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Sometimes you walk a thin line between doing what you think is best and doing what I ask of you, my Padawan. Which reminds me, have you completed your training for today?”

Sithspit. Veek had been so focused on satiating her curiosity that her responsibilities completely slipped her mind. And the download was only about 20% complete. Oops. “Well, no, not yet, but I’ll get right on it once I’m done here.”

A wave of disbelief radiating from Master Dozott that was powerful enough to make Veek wince crashed through the Force. “I can’t believe it. You’re procrastinating on your training _again_.”

“Master, Iー”

“We are in the middle of a galactic war, Veekah. You have been falling behind in the maintenance of your skills, and you’re not taking the necessary steps to ensure that you at least keep up. What are you _thinking_?”

 _Falling behind_? What the _kriff_? Sure, Master Dozott had always been strict about keeping a training schedule, but this was ridiculous. Ever since she could remember, Veek had been ahead of her peers, and it’s not like she’s been slacking lately. Since becoming a padawan (and especially since the war began on Geonosis), her life had become a constant cycle of training, and today’s training simply slipped her mind. Now Master Dozott was claiming that she was falling behind? All because she spent a little time on a personal interest instead of Jedi work?

Master Dozott was staring at her, clearly expecting some kind of cobbled-together excuse. Veek took a deep breath. Since Master Dozott wasn’t willing to be the adult in this situation, she needed to stay level-headed. If she lost her temper with Master Dozott and actually did something to warrant his displeasure, then Veek might end up in an even more unpleasant situation.

“Master, the only thing I’ve been doing lately is training and meditating. I don’t think a day of slacking off a bit can hurt anything,” Veek said. Quickly, before her master could continue to reprimand her, she added, “But I promise that I’ll do my training once I finish this up.”

Master Dozott scowled. “Our battles can’t be won on promises. If we want to have even a chance at victory ー even just survival ー , we need strength of mind and strength of body, which are only possible to have when you _train_.”

Veek narrowed her eyes. So this is how it’s going to be. “I’m not doing anything until you can give me a good reason why I have to start my daily training _right now_ instead of 15 minutes from now.” She tightened her grip on her datapad and checked the progress of the downloading file. It was at 50% now.

An unidentifiable sensation seeped through the Force. It twisted Veek’s stomach into an uncomfortable knot and tightened her throat until it was hard to breathe. The first thing that came to mind was _I’m having a panic attack_ , but she knew herself well enough to know that she shouldn’t be having a panic attack right now. That was the moment that Veek decided something wasn’t quite right. The Force contorted itself strangely, and where it usually felt smooth and familiar, it now felt rough and foreign. Changes like this aren’t common, so Veek struggled for a moment to school her breathing and tentatively reached out into the Force to search for meaning in its suddenly turbulent waves. Immediately, vague images that reeked of suffering and betrayal rapidly flashed through her mind. None of the images were comprehensible visuals, but the message was clear: something _bad_ is on the horizon.

Almost as soon as she felt this disturbance in the Force, a bolt of anxiety struck her, screaming at her not to let Master Dozott out of her sight. Reacting on pure instinct, Veek whipped around. White eyes locked with gold as padawan and master stared each other down. Veek wanted to squeeze her eyes shut and block out what the Force had shown her or sit alone in the dark and take deep breaths to calm herself, but she instead stood her ground against her master. Her suddenly very imposing and very menacing master.

Never before had Veek felt so... _unsafe_ in her master’s presence.

After several seconds of neither of them budging, Master Dozott sighed in exasperation. As if someone had snapped their fingers, the sickening feeling winding its way through the Force vanished.

“Every second you waste in fruitless endeavors is another second that our enemies have to claim an advantage over you,” Master Dozott said. “If you decide to be so obstinate that you refuse to acknowledge this fact, then you will be wholly responsible for the consequences.”

With that final statement, he abruptly turned on his heel and left the server room. Veek stared at the door for a long time after he left. She couldn’t remember a time when Master Dozott had been so upset about _anything_. They’ve certainly butted heads a bit in the past over simple disagreements, but this was different. Almost likeー

Wait.

Master Dozott was _clearly_ convinced that there would be a negative outcome if Veek didn’t train today. Right now, she could only guess at what may have influenced Master Dozott enough to cause him to think that. Perhaps the Force had shown him something that worried him. _Maybe_ the Force had shown him the same thing it had shown Veek, and he decided that the best way to prevent whatever bad thing that’s going to happen in the future is to train Veek’s montrals off.

Galactic war was new to both of them, but maybe Master Dozott had picked up on something that she hadn’t. Or perhaps he was just worried since the war makes everyone’s future uncertain. Either way, it was reason enough for Veek to stick with Master Dozott’s training schedule.

But does that explain Veek’s vision?

As she thought back on it, remembering nausea and painful images and anxiety, Veek realized that she did not feel equipped to extract the meaning from her vision on her own. Should she talk to Master Dozott about it? Almost immediately, she dismissed that idea. There’s more going on here than what Veek is aware of, and Master Dozott didn’t exactly seem inclined to deal with this rationally. Seeking help from another Jedi master would probably be the safer bet. Maybe she’ll try to get a hold of Master Plo or Master Ti or Master Windu as soon as she can and see if one of them can help her sift through the meaning of her vision.

A cheerful chime broke through Veek’s thoughts. The little bar showing the progress of the download was entirely filled with a “100%” beside it, signalling that the download was complete.

“I’m not so sure that you were worth the effort, map,” Veek sighed as she stored her datapad away in her robes. “But I guess we’re done here.”

Unplugging everything and cleaning up her mess of a setup took only a few minutes. Once the area was cleared, Veek headed towards her quarters to drop off her datapad before setting out to the _Stormspike_ ’s training room. On the way there, she came across two clones who stopped what they were doing once they saw her and gave a quick salute accompanied by a greeting of “Commander!” In the absence of any better ideas, Veek returned their salutes and put what energy she could into a smile. Her mind might still have been reeling from her first real argument with Master Dozott (and _kriffing hell, the Force_ ), but that wasn’t an excuse to fail at being friendly.

“At ease, men. You two are... Tanner and Behemoth, right?”

It’s often challenging to recognize specific clones (they are _clones_ after all), particularly since all of them have the same white armor. Well, all of them except for Pike. His orange-painted armor is impossible to miss. But since Veek can rely on uniquely-painted armor to identify Pike only, she had to use other methods to identify the rest of the 71st. Conveniently, becoming familiar with each clone’s signature in the Force works pretty well, but for that to even be an option, Veek has to be, you know, familiar enough with the clone in question to recognize the specific way that the Force feels around them.

It’s a work in progress.

“Yes, sir, that’s us,” Behemoth confirmed as he and Tanner settled into parade rest. “Are we needed somewhere, Commander Bala?”

“Oh, no, I just wanted to make sure that I had your names right,” Veek explained. “Sorry, I’m interrupting. I’ll let you get back to work.”

“You’re not interrupting much, sir. We were just on our way to the mess,” Tanner responded. “Are you headed there, too, Commander?”

Now that Veek thought about it, she hadn’t eaten much today. She had been far too focused on poking around the _Stormspike_ to think about food. Unfortunately, there was no time for eating just yet. Training was the next item on her agenda for the day. After all, she _did_ promise Master Dozott that she would train after her download was finished. Food could wait until afterwards.

“No, I’m on my way to the training room. My master wants me to complete my daily training as soon as possible. You know how it is,” Veek said with a shrug.

“Well, then don’t let us keep you, sir.” Behemoth said. “We’ll be on our way.”

Veek raised a hand in farewell. “Alright, I’ll see you two later!”

Behemoth then turned to Tanner and did some kind of gesture with his head that apparently meant _let’s go_. The two clones continued on their way to the mess, while Veek made her way to her quarters. When she got there, she tossed the datapad onto her bed without even stepping through the doorway and went on her way to the ship’s training room.

What should she practice? Master Dozott name specific skills earlier, so _hopefully_ that means that what she specifically practices isn’t of the utmost importance.

It’s been a while since she had an opportunity to practice shatterpoint, so maybe she’ll put some time towards that. Or perhaps she should drill her lightsaber forms? Veek certainly felt a bit rusty on Soresu, and the defensive techniques of Soresu are invaluable on the battlefield where she is responsible for shielding her men…

The Force suddenly stirred at the back of her mind, warning her of… something. Veek, relieved that the Force felt _normal_ , very nearly forgot to look for the cause of this feeling and immediately found herself face-to-face with the closed door of the training room. She was mere centimeters away from smacking her face into the door.

Well that could’ve been embarrassing.

Seconds later, Veek nearly jumped out of her skin at the sound of a voice behind her. “Hey, Commander.”

She whirled around to confront her ambusher, but relaxed when she saw who it was. “Hi, York. Here to train?”

York stood a short distance away in a relaxed position with his helmet tucked under his arm. Like most of the other clones in the 71st, York’s armor was unblemished white, but his unusually short hair, unique patchwork of scars on his left cheek, and distinctly comforting Force signature gave him away.

“Nah, sir. I saw you walking around with a completely spaced-out look on your face and thought I should intervene before you walked into something.” York looked towards the still-closed door. “Looks like you beat me to it, though.”

Veek smiled at him. “I got a helpful warning from the Force. Probably saved me from a bloody nose, which would make me look like I crawled out of a horror vid.”

“Can’t have a bloody-nosed commander,” York chuckled. “The rest of the 71st would be too afraid to go anywhere near you. What had you so out of it that you ended up risking your nose?”

“Nothing too crazy,” Veek stated with a shrug. “I just got a little too caught up in planning out my training.”

“You mean to tell me that you didn’t have a plan _before_ you were on your way here?” York asked, tilting his head slightly in curiosity. The change in York’s demeanor was subtle, but it was there. Previously, he had been his regular easygoing self. Now, Veek felt like he was studying her. One thing that Veek had noticed about York during their short time together is that he seemed to pick up on barely-there details quite easily. The fact that he was now using this skill on Veek was… unsettling.

“Well, my master didn’t exactly give me clear guidance on what I should do when he was busy chewing me out earlier,” Veek responded tentatively.

York was taken aback. “ _What_?”

“Master Dozott said that I’m falling behind on my training, so I thought I would pick out a few things to practice that I feel rusty on because I really do feel out of practice on some… stuff...”

“He… what?” York narrowed his eyes. “Wait, Commander, let me get this straight. I know for a fact that you come damn near close to training every day. And it _sounds_ like, for some karking reason, General Dozott thinks that’s not enough. So he claimed that you’re falling behind but couldn’t be bothered to mention what exactly you’re falling behind _on_? With all due respect, that’s kriffing nonsensical, Commander.”

“Yeah, I suppose it is,” Veek conceded. She wanted to be honest with York, but that would probably mean telling him about her vision in the Force. She wasn’t ready to sort through the nightmare that the Force had shoved directly into her brain just yet. And it’s not like York’s equipped to help her with that anyways. “But he’s probably just trying to make sure that I’m ready for whatever’s waiting for me on the battlefield.”

There was a moment’s pause as York digested that idea.

“Hm, I guess you’re right.” York couldn’t look less convinced if he tried. “But I still think you could use a break from training for today. Now, come on, we’re gonna do something that isn’t related to the war.”

“Wait, Yorkー”

Without waiting for a full response, York grabbed Veek by the arm and dragged her down the hallway.

* * *

Compared to what Pike was accustomed to from growing up on Kamino, the _Stormspike_ felt both very dark and very open. Back home on Kamino (but he supposes that the _Stormspike_ is home now for at least as long as the war lasts), nearly everything was a blinding white that reflected the bright lights overhead. Memories of light-induced headaches briefly surfaced at the thought of Kamino’s hallways, and Pike had to stop walking for a moment to regain his bearings when a phantom headache appeared.

Pike hasn’t had one of those headaches that he had grown so accustomed to on Kamino since he’s been stationed aboard the _Stormspike_ , and that was one of the things he was happiest to be rid of. He was also happy to be free from the kaminoans’ constant observation and regulations. There had been so many places that he wasn’t allowed to go and so many things that he wasn’t allowed to do, but he had free reign of the _Stormspike_ as captain of the 71st. It felt strange to be thrown into such freedom after living under the strictly regimented lifestyle imposed by the kaminoans for so long. He wouldn’t know what to do with himself if he didn’t have his duties to keep him busy.

On the other hand, the Jedi didn’t seem affected in the slightest by this drastic change to their lives. Pike was impressed at how _normal_ they acted (or as normal as Jedi can act), almost like spending weeks at a time on a star destroyer while attending to their various deployments and other wartime responsibilities was typical for them. General Dozott carried himself with an air of acceptance of his new responsibilities as a general in the Grand Army of the Republic, though Pike thought he still seemed displeased about it. Commander Bala also seemed to be settling into her role as the 71st’s commander, but she was… different from the General. A lot different.

Commander Bala was in the 71st’s barracks aboard the _Stormspike_ again. She seemed to be there far more often than Pike had expected of any Jedi based on what he learned about them back on Kamino. Today, she was chatting up a storm with the 71st’s resident tech specialist, York. Commander Bala and York were each seated on spare crates that had been pulled close to the wall in order to stay tucked out of the way. From this distance, Pike couldn’t tell exactly what they were talking about, but Commander Bala seemed to be telling some kind of story, if her crazy grin and wildly flailing arms were any indication. From his spot beside her, York interjected a comment or question from time to time, sending them both into a fit of laughter.

The 71st hadn’t been with their General and Commander for long, but Pike was happy that some of his men were already warming up to the Commander. It’s good for them to have a friendly relationship with at least one of their commanding officers. At the same time, Pike was not at all surprised that one of the first clones he’s seen having such a casual interaction with Commander Bala is York. Ever since their time as cadets, York had always been quick to establish a friendship with new people who he had decided were worth the time. Other clones tended to follow York’s lead when it came to unfamiliar people. In other words, if York made a friend, then that person should get ready to make _many_ more friends.

Pike honestly wanted to join them. From what he’s observed in his few interactions with the Commander, she was a likable and intelligent kid, and he wished that he had the time to get to know her sooner rather than later. But duty calls. Annoyance at his lack of free time spiked as he continued on his path towards the exit to the barracks. He still had many responsibilities to attend to before he could relax.

“Pike!” the Commander called out. He turned back towards her and York. Commander Bala, distracted from her story, now had her unsettling, white gaze fixed directly on Pike (He couldn’t help but notice, perhaps for the hundredth time, that her skull-like face and piercing gaze didn’t match her demeanor in the slightest). She smiled at him and patted a spot on the crate beside her. “Come over here and join us for a bit!”

“Commander, I would love to, but I’m busy. There’s still a lot that needs to be taken care of before our next deployment.”

Commander Bala rolled her eyes. “I _know_ you’re busy, but you’re allowed to take breaks. And we don’t even have our next orders yet! So come over here and sit down for a minute.”

“The Commander has a point, Captain, and she _does_ have some pretty interesting stories to fill the time,” York chimed in. “Even if she’s exaggerating. A lot.” Out of the corner of his eye, Pike thought he saw Commander Bala stick her tongue out at York. “I think you can spare the time to listen to one.”

The look on Pike’s face made it obvious that he was nowhere near convinced. A captain’s work can be both demanding and time-consuming, so Pike was understandably hesitant to shirk his duties (Well, he wasn’t avoiding his responsibilities, so he wouldn’t be _shirking_ his duties exactly, but Pike still wasn’t keen on doing anything other than returning to work). As he scoured his brain for something, anything to say that didn’t sound dismissive or mean, he felt like a fish out of water with his mouth moving but no words coming out. The words to decline the offer were right on the tip of his tongue, but Commander Bala beat him to it. “If you get in trouble, I’ll take full responsibility. It would be my fault anyways, so it’s only fair. But don’t worry, I’ve got your back.”

Pike flicked his eyes back and forth between York and Commander Bala, then let out a sigh. General Dozott already wasn’t a big fan of clones, and Pike didn’t want to damage the General’s opinion of him anymore than he had to. But Commander Bala was clearly willing to sacrifice her own good standing with General Dozott for his sake. She was very intent on including him, and York seemed equally intent on dragging his captain into story time.

“ _One_ story,” he conceded.

Commander Bala’s face lit up as she scooched over to give him a little more room on the crate, and Pike took his seat. It’s probably for the best that Pike was pulled into this. At the very least, it will help the rest of the 71st feel less uncertain around the Commander if the other clones see their captain and #1 Friendly Guy on good terms with her.

“So Pike, I was just telling York about this one time with my friends Otchi, Yin, and Tsing when we were growing up in the Jedi Temple on Coruscant…”

* * *

“... and then, right when we thought Master Drallig was going to catch us, Master Plo lied straight to his face and told Master Drallig that we were with him the whole time!”

“I told you that the Commander has a habit of embellishing her stories,” York stage whispered to Pike. “No kriffin’ _way_ were four eight-year-olds able to sneak around a Jedi Master like that and climb the statues outside the Temple without being noticed.”

Pike choked on a laugh when he saw the mock offended look on Commander Bala’s face. “Hey! That’s what happened!” she protested.

York lazily held his hands up like he was being accused of something. “Mhm,” he said with a shrug, “whatever you say, Commander.”

“I think it sounds plausible,” Pike commented. “From what I’ve seen, Jedi are something else. It can’t be that different when they’re young.”

“Thank you, Pike. At least _someone_ here believes me.” Commander Bala threw an accusing look at York, who pretended not to notice. This time, Pike _definitely_ saw her stick her tongue out at York.

Over the years, Pike has witnessed York click instantly with new people more times than he can count, but it never ceased to amaze him how personable York is. York and Commander Bala were messing around like they’ve been friends for years when they met only a few weeks ago.

The sound of Commander Bala’s comlink going off interrupted Pike’s thoughts. “That must be my master,” she said as she answered her comlink. “What is it, Master?”

General Dozott’s voice crackled through the comlink. “ _Veekah, come to the bridge immediately._ ”

Pike winced at how curt General Dozott sounded, but he must have a good reason for it. If Pike had to guess, the 71st had just received their newest orders, and General Dozott probably wanted to brief Commander Bala on the mission details as soon as possible.

“Yes, Master,” Commander Bala responded, her voice giving no hint that she had just been telling a goofy story to two clones. “I’ll be there as quick as I can.”

“ _Good. If Captain Pike is with you, make sure he comes, too._ ” Then he hung up.

The three were silent for a few moments as Pike and York looked at Commander Bala, who was sitting motionless with her eyes closed while she took a deep, slow breath. If her arm wasn’t still held close to her mouth to talk into her comlink, Pike would’ve thought that she was meditating.

York nudged her. “Commander? You alright there?”

Her eyes opened at the touch. For a moment, she looked disoriented, but she regained composure before Pike could fully process what he was seeing. “Yeah, I’m fine.” Commander Bala slid off of the crate and onto her feet. “Coming, Pike?”

“Yes, sir,” Pike responded as he shoved his bucket back on his head and stood up from his spot on the crate. Before Pike and Commander Bala went on their way, Pike turned back to York for a quick farewell. “See you later, York.”

“See ya, Captain,” York said as he collected his helmet in order to return to his own duties. Commander Bala raised a hand at York in a tired farewell (which York returned, albeit more energetically) as she and Pike began their walk to the bridge.

The hallways of the _Stormspike_ were busy with white-armored clones going about their various responsibilities. Any clones that Pike and Commander Bala passed by stopped briefly to salute them with a short shout of “Commander!” or “Captain!” before continuing on their way. Pike nodded at the troopers in acknowledgement, while Commander Bala gave them a quick salute in return.

The silence between the two of them wasn’t exactly comfortable. Normally, Commander Bala was rather talkative, but now, she was unusually quiet. Something about her interaction with General Dozott certainly damaged her previous good mood.

Pike scrutinized Commander Bala, who was walking alongside him on his left. “Are you sure you’re alright, sir?”

“Yes, I’m sure. I’m just… getting a bit stuck in my own thoughts, I guess.”

Clearly, she didn’t want to talk about whatever was on her mind. Pike didn’t have any issue with that: it wasn’t any of his business anyway, and it would probably be for the best not to prod her about it anymore. But the uncomfortable silence continued, and Pike wasn’t excited to leave the awkward air between them alone until they reached the bridge.

Pike had an idea to break the silence. Was it a good idea? Maybe not. It had the potential to be painfully awkward and mistimed. Was that going to stop him? Absolutely not. He took a deep breath. Here goes nothing. “So, Commander, what would you call the color of your montrals?”

She looked at him with surprise. Most likely, she hadn’t expected Pike to say anything, much less ask about color semantics. “The color of my montrals? You mean the cerulean pattern?”

Pike nodded. “Yes, sir, that’s it.” At the sight of the questioning look on Commander Bala’s face, he elaborated. “I haven’t been able to decide if it’s called blue or teal since Geonosis, Commander.”

“Really? You’ve been thinking about it for that long?”

“I just wanted to be respectful towards my commander and correctly identify the color of the pattern on her montrals.”

She huffed out a laugh. To Pike, it was the sound of his attempt to break the silence succeeding. “That’s still a long time to think about what color to call the pattern on my montrals.”

Pike shrugged. “It’s not my fault that the kaminoans didn’t educate us on color theory.”

“A species of personality-less scientists _didn’t_ teach you about colors like cerulean?” Commander Bala asked in a sarcasm-laden tone. “I don’t believe it.”

“I’m afraid they only taught us useless things, like how to shoot a blaster or create battle strategies.”

“Yeah, those are pretty useless compared to the names of colors. Someone should alert the kaminoans.”

“You’re right, we should tell them that we’re going to win the war by aggressively yelling extremely specific names of colors at our enemies instead of shooting them. It would help them better tailor the cadets’ training to what they’ll experience in the army.”

Commander Bala broke out into giggles. “ _Kriffing hell_ , can you imagine an army coming after you, but the only thing they’re doing is yelling ‘chartreuse! mauve! puce! fulvous!’”

Those were four of the most absurd words he had ever heard in his life. There’s no way that those are real colors. No way at all. Pike narrowed his eyes at Commander Bala, looking for some sign that she was joking. As far as he could tell, she wasn’t joking. “You mean to tell me that those are actual names of actual colors?”

“C’mon, Pike, would I lie to you? I _promise_ that those are actually the names of colors that exist somewhere in the galaxy.”

With the two of them engrossed in this friendly back-and-forth, they reached the bridge in no time at all. Just like the rest of the ship, the bridge was busy as everyone attended to their duties. General Dozott stood in the war room, deep in conversation with Admiral Rohuva. Admiral Carius Rohuva was a very serious mirialan who was wholly devoted to the Republic, but he also had little love for any of the clones. He didn’t _hate_ them, but if given the choice between nat-borns and clones, Pike was certain that he would choose nat-borns.

As they entered the war room, Commander Bala squared her shoulders like she was preparing for a confrontation. “Master.”

The mission briefing hadn’t even started yet, but the atmosphere in the war room was already tense. Did General Dozott and Commander Bala get into some kind of argument?

Standing at attention, Pike similarly greeted General Dozott. “General.”

The lasat looked at Commander Bala and Pike. Before responding to them, he turned back to Admiral Rohuva to make some final comment. They were too far away for it to be audible, but whatever General Dozott said was evidently agreeable since Admiral Rohuva nodded in response. As Admiral Rohuva bade farewell to General Dozott and walked to the observation area of the bridge, General Dozott faced Pike and Commander Bala. He strode over to them, hands clasped behind his back.

General Dozott nodded at each of them in turn. “Captain Pike. Veekah. We’ve received orders for deployment to the planet Igiri.”

Igiri, huh? The planet isn’t particularly well-known or important, but it does have somewhat of a reputation for having phenomenally bad weather. While it was nice to finally have their first serious deployment, Pike wished it could be on a planet that wouldn’t drown the entire battalion in mud and torrential rain if they weren’t careful.

“There are large droid production facilities on the surface,” the General continued, “but the surface is obscured by dense jungle and frequent storms, so they are undetectable to surveillance efforts from the atmosphere. The 71st has been tasked with finding these facilities and if possible, destroying them. Unfortunately, the density of the jungle on the surface means that our AT-RTs and speeder bikes will likely be ineffective, so we must travel on foot. Captain Pike, it is your responsibility to ensure that the rest of the battalion is well-prepared for this mission.”

“The men will be ready, General,” Pike promised. The 71st is more than capable of handling a jungle and some bad weather, but he could practically hear some of them complaining about it already.

“Good. Captain Pike, you are dismissed. Veekah, stay here and familiarize yourself with our current mission data on Igiri.” And General Dozott turned his attention to the war room’s holotable to study the information that it was projecting about the planet.

Pike quickly flicked his eyes to Commander Bala. She looked like she wanted to say something, but all she did was clench her jaw and give a terse response. “Yes, Master.”

Commander Bala joined General Dozott at the holotable. For a couple seconds, Pike stood awkwardly as his mind processed how uncomfortable that exchange was. The General had hardly even acknowledged his padawan, and he sort of just… talked _at_ them. And Commander Bala said all of three words since entering the war room.

Fortunately, after a few moments of thinking, Pike was jolted out of his headspace and propelled out the door when he realized that someone might reprimand him for not doing his job.

The men won’t like it when they hear that the 71st is going to Igiri, but they don’t have to like it. All they need to do as soldiers of the Republic is play their part to win this war, and Pike will do what he can to bring his brothers out alive. But Pike isn’t exactly in charge of the 71st; that power lies with Commander Bala and General Dozott. Pike likes Commander Bala, but she’s young and inexperienced, and therefore more likely to make mistakes. On the other hand, General Dozott considers his actions carefully and gives orders that take advantage of the 71st’s strengths, but Pike knows that he doesn’t see nat-borns and clones as equals. Unfortunately, there’s not much that Pike can do to change his mind.


	4. Igiri

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mud is life.

Watching hyperspace go by had always been one of Veek’s favorite things to do between missions. The dazzling light trails left behind by the stars they sped past had entranced her as a child. She always liked to try naming what system each star belonged to, and then she would check the star charts to see if she was right. Master Dozott sometimes quizzed her about the native flora and fauna of the planets they passed, giving her a pat on the shoulder that almost sent her flying if she gave the right answer or gently correcting her if she were wrong.

Veek smiled fondly at the memory. With a battle on the horizon, there’s no time for gazing out at space right now, but Force willing, there’ll be plenty of time for it later when the 71st returns from Igiri. Speaking of Igiri, the  _ Stormspike _ had entered the system a short while ago and had been carefully placed very far away from the planet (in an asteroid field, no less) to avoid detection by scanners on the surface. Remaining undetected for as long as possible is imperative if they’re going to have a chance against the droids on a planet that they’ve been camped out on for Maker knows how long.

The hangars were bustling in a way that Veek had never seen before. Since the war started about a month ago, the 71st’s missions had mostly consisted of sending a squad or two to scout out an area to help another section of the GAR complete their own mission. Veek had gone on most of those missions herself and could attest that they were rather boring. Igiri, on the other hand, will be the 71st’s and Veek’s first real deployment. It was bound to be dangerous and unpleasant, yet there was an air of excitement among the men.

Veek would be lying if she said she wasn’t excited, too. What can she say? She enjoys the adrenaline rush of combat and the excitement of sneaking around Separtist forces.

The incident earlier that day with Master Dozott still nagged at her mind. Missions have never made Veek nervous, but his insistence about her training was definitely cause for concern. It’s not like she can do anything about it now, though. She can just train her ass off when she gets back to make up for it.

Huh, Veek had come to the hangar with the intent to help the battalion prep for the mission, but it looked like nearly everything was done. For the most part, the remaining mission prep consisted of last-minute checks on the gunships before takeoff. She wasn’t exactly qualified to help with that, and it looked like the flight crews didn’t need help anyways. Beyond a row of gunships that had pilots and their flight crews flitting around, she spotted a handful of clones still loading supplies into a gunship and started towards them.

“Veekah, may I have a word with you?”

Veek narrowed her eyes. Telling him  _ no _ was tempting. Telling him to kark off and leave her alone was  _ extremely _ tempting. “Um… you may, Master.”

Master Dozott glanced at the clones surrounding Veek. “Alone?”

The expression on York’s face was unreadable, but his clear distrust of Master Dozott carved currents through the Force.

“Of course, Master.”

Master Dozott began heading towards a less busy area of the hangar, but Veek hung around a moment longer to give York what she hoped was a reassuring look. York mouthed ‘ _ good luck _ ’ before returning to his squad’s final prep, and another clone whose name she didn’t know (she'll have to make sure she learns who he is later) gave her an awkward thumbs up. Veek gave that clone a quick smile, and then headed over to join her master. Once she reached him, she crossed her arms and steeled her nerves while she waited for him to say his piece.

“I wanted to apologize to you before we head down to the surface. When we… argued earlier today, I allowed my worries to get the better of me, and I was unfair to you. You always put a lot of hard work into everything you do, and I am deeply sorry for getting upset with you and accusing you of avoiding training.”

The Force seemed to flow easier, as if to say  _ it's okay now, things are back to normal. _ Wartime isn’t exactly what Veek would qualify as  _ normal _ , but at least she wouldn't be yelled at again.

“Apology accepted,” Veek began, “but none of that is an excuse for you to get so high-strung about this. I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself, and straying  _ slightly _ from my regular training schedule won’t change that.”

“I know, Veekah, I know. I’m not trying to make excuses. You are a very strong student, and I’m so proud of the Jedi that you’ve become. But I worry for you.” Master Dozott kneeled to level his gaze with Veek’s and placed his hands on her shoulders. “Our role in this war has forced you into a dangerous position. I would never forgive myself if something happened to you, so I… I only want you to be prepared.”

Veek placed her hands on her master’s shoulders (or at least she tried to, since her arms weren’t quite as long as his) and gave him a friendly smile. “Master, I’ll be alright. You’ve taught me well, and our men’ll have my back if anything goes wrong.”

The expression on Master Dozott’s face shifted to one of muted displeasure. “Right, the clones.” He paused for a moment, casting his gaze downward to search for the right words. When he spoke again, his voice was low and serious, and there was something in his eyes that Veek almost didn’t recognize. “You shouldn’t place too much faith in them. There is something… odd about them that I don’t trust.”

Veek blinked at Master Dozott as she processed his words. The men of the 71st are wonderful people who are more than capable of keeping others safe, in her opinion. They’re respectful, capable soldiers who are just doing their jobs. Had Master Dozott noticed something about them that she hadn’t?

“Odd how?”

“I—” Instead of continuing his explanation, Master Dozott cut himself off with a sigh as he glanced around the hangar (was he worried that a clone might hear him?). “This is neither the time nor the place for this discussion. We can discuss this in detail later, but right now, we have a mission to complete.”

Master Dozott moved to stand up, but Veek pushed on his shoulders to keep him from leaving just yet. “ _ Promise _ that we’ll have a proper chat about this when we get back. I wanna know as soon as possible what you think is going on with the clones, Master.”

“You have my word, Veekah.” As he stood up to his full height, Master Dozott glanced back down at Veek and patted her shoulder lightly. “We will be leaving soon, Padawan. I read over the reports from the scouts”—ah, Veek had forgotten about the scouts—“and it sounds like they managed to narrow down our search area.”

“Good to hear that we don’t have to walk all over the entire planet,” Veek quipped. She just barely caught the slight uptick at the corner of Master Dozott’s mouth. “Alright, since we’ll be leaving, I’m gonna make sure that everyone’s ready to go. See you on the gunship!” Veek waved at him as she jogged off.

That was sort of an unsatisfying conclusion to whatever the kriff happened in the Force last time Veek had an extended chat with Master Dozott. The Force can be incredibly vague at times, so it’s entirely probable that what Veek felt is the same thing that has Master Dozott so concerned for her safety. The clones being untrustworthy seems unlikely, though. Impossible, even. Weren’t they specifically engineered for loyalty or something? And beyond that, if they can’t be trusted, why have they been so genuinely kind towards Veek? And wouldn’t the Force act weird around them if they harbored some kind of ill will? What sort of “bad” things would they even  _ do _ ? And what could their motives possibly be? And—

“Everything alright, Commander?” Pike asked.

“What? Oh, yeah, my train of thought was just flying across several different tracks. Is everyone ready to head to the surface and kark up some Separatist plans?”

“Yes, sir. Our supplies are loaded, the gunships are prepped, and the men are ready to deploy immediately.”

“Then come on! Master Dozott’s waiting for us on the gunship.” 

“Right behind you, Commander. Lead the way.”

They started towards the gunship that would take them to Igiri. As they approached, Veek watched the pilots, who were busy flicking switches and chatting about something in the cockpit.

“Hey, Pike.” He tilted his head down to look at Veek. “The pilots. Pierce and Foggy, right?”

Pike glanced up at the two clones before nodding in confirmation. “Yes, sir, that’s them. Why do you ask?”

Veek shrugged. “Just wanted to make sure I know who’s taking us down to Igiri. Gotta be able to thank them later, right?”

Pike seemed to falter for just a split second, like he wasn’t quite sure what to say. Was the idea of thanking the pilots really so strange? “Yes, I suppose you do, Commander.”

Master Dozott greeted them with a slight nod of his head as they stepped aboard the gunship. Slowly, the sides of the gunship slid closed, bathing the inhabitants of the gunship in darkness.

* * *

“I think I’m starting to sweat through my armor,” Rigel complained, puncturing the repetitive squelching caused by a whole company marching through knee-high mud. “Remind me again what we’re doing on this mudball?”

Ike stifled a groan and instead settled for rolling his eyes, which went safely unnoticed behind his helmet. Ty, however, made no effort to disguise his displeasure. “You can’t be serious.”

“I  _ am _ serious!” Rigel retorted. “My blacks are soaked from the inside because of all my sweat since it’s so  _ humid _ , and there’s  _ nothing _ here except for  _ too many kriffing trees _ that are  _ way _ too close together, these karking  _ massive _ roots all over the place, and way too much mud! Navigating around here is like trying to walk through soup that was made by a worthless cook who over-measured their thickener, and for what?”

Even though Ty’s face was obscured by his helmet, Ike still had a pretty good idea of what look he was giving Rigel right now. Ike knew that look well. It was the look of a man who wasn’t afraid to tackle his brother for spouting stupid sithspit.

“Because we’re on a  _ reconnaissance _ mission, and we’re the 71st  _ Reconnaissance  _ Battalion. We’re reconnoitering! It’s our  _ job _ .”

In Ike’s opinion, their mission was going smoothly so far. Igiri was known for its poor weather, but the battalion had been lucky to arrive during an unexpected gap in the regular rainstorms. The weather was still overcast, the trees still blocked much of their view of the sky, the ground was still thick with months worth of mud, and the breathable air was still dense with moisture. But compared to the downright awful weather that the 71st had been anticipating, the conditions weren’t too bad. The humidity was a bit much for Ike’s taste, and he did wish that there was more space between each tree so their above-ground roots didn’t create nearly impassable webs. He's more than willing to look past those grievances, though, since the 71st is  _ finally _ on a mission that’s more interesting than  _ scout out the area for this Separatist base so that the [insert number here] Battalion can attack them _ , even if he has to trudge through more mud than he’s ever seen in his entire 10 years of life in order to do his part.

Rigel, on the other hand, could fabricate a complaint over the slightest discomfort. Ike is fairly certain that Rigel just likes to irritate his brothers, particularly Ty, for his own amusement. Fortunately for everyone else in the squad, Ty  _ always _ takes the bait and single-handedly keeps Rigel entertained.

“But we haven’t seen  _ any _ droids!”

“ _ Maybe _ that’s because you’re spending too much time complaining and not enough time keeping an eye out for them.”

“Well, have  _ you _ seen any droids?”

“No, but—” Ty cut himself off and snapped to attention when General Dozott turned to address the company. Beside him, both Ike and Rigel followed Ty’s lead and also stood at attention.

“Men, we will make a temporary camp here to regroup before pressing on. Use your time wisely.” General Dozott did not look happy about this, but it was a bit hard to tell since he has  _ horrible _ resting karkface.

The company set up their temporary camp in a clearing, a term that Ike uses loosely since the “clearing” had  _ maybe _ one or two fewer trees than everywhere else. General Dozott, Commander Bala, and Captain Pike broke off from the rest of the company and huddled together near a particularly wide tree, probably to discuss their next steps.

All around the makeshift camp, clones were settling in for their brief respite. Ty and Rigel clamored onto the top of the nearby trees’ above-ground roots, not even skipping a beat in their argument. Rigel had now jumped to a new complaint, claiming that he would rather risk crashing into a tree on a speeder bike than continue trudging through the mud. Not at all eager to be a continued witness to the pair’s antics, Ike elected to stay on the ground.  _ I suppose I should track down Felix and Zep before those two do anything mission-endingly stupid _ .

Ike scanned the makeshift camp. Most of the company was taking refuge from the mud on the surrounding trees’ roots that jutted out at all angles above the ground. Several clones had seized the opportunity to clear the mud from their weapons and were eagerly taking their blasters apart to pick away what they could of the maroon mess plastered there. Others had slung themselves precariously on the roots, somehow already taking naps. Captain Pike and Commander Bala had joined the clones seated on the roots, and General Dozott remained on the ground.

No sign of Felix or Zep. Not surprising, considering how…  _ occupied _ the jungle floor is. Maybe he can get a better view of the area from the top of one of the roots.

With a grunt of effort, Ike heaved himself up along a path of protruding footholds and handholds to the top of the root. Once he was within reach of the top, a nearby clone grabbed his upper arms to pull Ike the rest of the way up. With the amount of force that the clone used, Ike nearly went sailing into Captain Pike, who was busy keeping a watchful eye on their surroundings as he spoke into his comlink, but the clone who helped him up (Ike could see now that it was his sergeant, York) rapidly plopped him straight down onto the root before Ike unwittingly body slammed his captain.

“Thanks,” Ike exhaled when he was safely seated next to York.

York waved away Ike’s gratitude. “Don’t mention it, Ike. Looking to escape the mud?”

Ike shook his head. “No, I’m looking for Felix and Zep. Have you seen them?”

“Hm, can’t say that I have.” York twisted around, searching for their absent squad members. “But they’re always sneaking off to cause problems, right? I’m sure they’re around here somewhere, doing something stupid.”

Ike sighed as he attempted to rub his temples through his bucket. “Yeah, that’s what I’m afraid of.”

“Need some help looking?” York offered. Of  _ course _ York would offer to help out his brother and squadmate, but Ike wasn’t about to accept that offer and stop him from getting some well-deserved rest.

“No, that’s alright, York. You seem worn out, and I don’t want to drag you along on a wild mynock chase.”

A protest was flying out of York’s mouth before Ike even finished speaking. “Ike, brothers need to help each other. It doesn’t kriffing  _ matter  _ how tired I am—”

“I can help you look,” Commander Bala interrupted.

Captain Pike, York, and Ike all turned to look at the Commander. Until now, Ike had barely registered the fact that she was present and in such close proximity because she had been quietly munching on a ration bar. Currently, her white eyes were fixed directly on Ike, waiting patiently for his response.

Unable to think of something eloquent to say, Ike instead spluttered in response. Thankfully, Captain Pike and York saved him from suffering  _ too _ much embarrassment under their commander’s gaze.

“You need rest, too, Commander,” Captain Pike responded. “You may be a Jedi, but you aren’t invincible.”

“Captain’s right, sir,” York said. “Plus, our brothers are our responsibility, especially when they’re being children.”

Commander Bala crossed her arms in a show of stubbornness. “What, so I can’t help you find your brothers because it’s ‘not my problem’ or some sithspit?” Before any of the three clones could respond, she continued. “Let me help. And if nothing else, it would at least be an interesting punishment for disappearing on you to spook your brothers by coming after them with me and my skull face.”

“Fair point, sir,” York snickered.

Commander Bala grinned. “So it’s settled! I’ll help Ike find your brothers.”

“Commander, that’s not—”

“Wait a minute, sir—”

It was too late; the Commander was already packing away the uneaten remains of her ration bar. “Bye, Pike. Bye, York. Let’s go find your brothers, Ike!” Commander Bala hopped down to the ground before any of the three clones could protest.

Should he… just follow her? Ike glanced back and forth between Captain Pike and York, searching for answers (Or maybe permission? Ike’s not quite sure and feels a tad bamboozled right now). The only sound Captain Pike made was an exasperated sigh, while York simply shrugged.

Ike took that as his cue to follow her. He turned towards the edge of the root and dropped to the ground, sending a splash of mud up his already muddy armor and… onto Commander Bala.

Oh no. He’s probably going to be decommissioned for splashing his commanding officer with mud. He’s going to be decommissioned, and he’s going to set some kind of record for dumbest decommission ever. Ike’s only hope is that he can smooth things over as much as possible with an apology or he’s done for.

“Commander, I’m sorry!” Ike exclaimed.

Commander Bala was frozen for a few seconds. If it was because of surprise or anger, Ike couldn’t tell, but he braced himself for the worst. He squeezed his eyes shut and hoped to any higher power that nothing too horrible would happen to him.

The seconds crawled by like hours as he waited for her to start yelling at him. Or worse.

But the yelling never started.

Instead, she  _ laughed _ .

“No worries, Ike. It’s just mud. I was already muddy anyways.”

Tentatively, Ike opened his eyes once again and was met with the Commander's white eyes that looked only freakier now that her face had a big splash of dark, maroon mud across it. With a grin at Ike, she wiped some of the mud from her face so it wouldn't fall into her eyes or mouth.

That was a hell of an overreaction. Ike wanted to punch himself. This was the same person who just offered to help find Felix and Zep when she really had no obligation to do so and was mud-soaked already and undoubtedly tired. Of  _ course _ the Commander wouldn’t mind being accidentally splashed with a little more mud.

“So, Ike,” Commander Bala began as she picked a direction and started walking, “where do you think we might find your brothers?”

Ike did his best to keep pace with her in the sticky mud. She may be short, but the Commander walks  _ fast _ . “I’m not sure, Commander, but they can’t have... gone... far.”

The noise drifting through the nearby foliage was certainly out of place in the regular chirps, whistles, and growls of the jungle. There were voices on the other side of these plants. Quiet voices, but voices nonetheless. Ike glanced at Commander Bala.

“Droids?” he whispered.

She shook her head. “Droids this close to camp without being noticed? No, can’t be.” Commander Bala carefully pushed some oversized leaves out of the way for the two of them to peek through the thick foliage. Ike wasn’t able to see anything, but the sound of the voices was a bit clearer without the massive plants blocking the way. “Come on, let’s check it out.”

With one hand out in front of her to make a path and her other hand hovering near her lightsaber, Commander Bala disappeared into the purple plants. After taking a deep breath and resituating his grip on his blaster, Ike followed her. He didn’t know what was waiting for them on the other side, but he hoped that Felix and Zep were okay.

When Ike emerged from the plants, he almost crashed into Commander Bala, whose shoulders were shaking and hands were clasped near her mouth as she took in the scene in front of her. Was she crying?

Ike’s heart was racing. Something must be wrong. Horribly wrong.

“I take it those are your brothers?” Wait, her voice wasn’t teary. Rather, it was mirthful.

Ah, she had been laughing again. But why?

Ike poked his head up over the top of Commander Bala’s montrals. This new area that they found themselves in was shielded from outside view by large, closely-packed trees and dense underbrush. In the center of the circle created by the trees was a small pond filled with clear water. In the pond, with their backs to Ike and Commander Bala, were Felix and Zep, up to their knees in pond water.

“We need to corner it, Zep!”

“Felix, there aren’t any kriffing corners on the kriffing pond, you kriffing idiot!”

“You know what I mean, buckethead!”

“What are they doing?” Ike asked as he stepped forward to stand next to Commander Bala instead of behind her.

“I think they’re trying to catch a fish,” she responded in an amused tone, now with her hands on her hips instead of covering her mouth.

Now that Commander Bala pointed it out, Ike could see the large, brightly-colored fish that had captured his brothers’ attention. All this over a dumb fish? Ike watched in disbelief as Felix and Zep took turns grabbing at the purple-and-blue fish with their bare hands like the pair of dumbasses that they were.

“Is  _ this  _ where you two poodoo-for-brains have been?” Ike asked them loudly.

Immediately, they stopped what they were doing and turned to look at Ike. Zep opened his mouth to throw some kind of retort back at Ike, but snapped it shut again when he saw Commander Bala. From what Ike could see out of the corner of his eye, it certainly looked like Commander Bala was nothing short of displeased with the pair. Ike couldn’t help but wonder if she was just a very good actor or if General Dozott had infected her with his resting karkface. Zep and Felix snapped to attention so quickly that Ike was actually a little impressed. “Uh, sir, we were just trying to… use this time to get some training in! Need to keep our reflexes sharp if we’re going to beat those clankers! Uh, sir!”

Commander Bala raised a brow at them, a smirk playing at her lips. “Uh huh. That sounds  _ completely _ believable.” The two clones, still in the pond, looked stiff as boards. Luckily for Felix and Zep, the Commander took pity on them and gestured for them to relax. “Don’t worry, you’re not in trouble. At least, not with me. Ike here might have different ideas,” she said, patting Ike on the shoulder. “I’ll leave you to it.”

Ike glared at his brothers as Commander Bala pushed her way back through the foliage to return to camp. “You two are, without a doubt, the biggest laserbrains in this entire kriffing army.”

* * *

Smudge had never been a fan of the quiet. It usually carried nothing but an inescapable feeling of foreboding. Silence felt like death and loneliness, but the noisiness of the jungle made everything around him feel alive and comforting. Arms crossed behind his head, Smudge reclined on the tree root where he and some of his brothers had decided to rest and watched the green and blue leaves overhead sway slightly in an almost undetectable breeze. They may have been in the middle of a war, but Smudge felt at peace.

_ Beep! Beep! Beep! _

Well, Smudge  _ had _ felt at peace, right up until Dexter’s comm shattered the pleasant atmosphere. At least Dexter had mercy on him and answered it quickly. “What is it, Captain?”

“ _ Dexter, I have a mission for you, Smudge, Kilowatt, and Neutron. Meet me by the big tree near the edge of camp. _ ”

“We’ll be there before you can blink, sir.” After deactivating his comm, he turned to the three clones seated near him on the tree root. “Alright, boys, you heard Captain Pike. Let’s move!”

After spending several painful hours marching through mud, Smudge  _ definitely _ was not looking forward to who knows how many more hours of the incredibly exciting activity of  _ marching through mud _ . He doesn’t even need to hear what the mission is because he already knows that he won’t like it. But oh well, he has a job to do now, and what purpose would his legally-questionable-at-best existence have if he didn’t do his job?

“Yes, sir!” Smudge, Kilowatt, and Neutron chorused as the three of them stood up and began gathering their equipment. Within seconds, the group of four were on their way to meet with Captain Pike, buckets and blasters in hand.

“Hey, Smudge,” Neutron said. “Is your scar getting darker, or is it just me?”

Smudge shrugged. “I don’t  _ know _ . It’s on my forehead. Not like I can actually  _ see _ it.”

Eyes narrowed, Kilowatt leaned closer to Smudge. “Maybe it is a bit darker. Hard to tell with the lighting out here.”

“ _ Kriffing hell _ . It doesn’t matter, and I don’t care,” Smudge grumbled as he shoved his bucket on. Laughing quietly, Kilowatt and Neutron also put on their helmets.

They just won’t let him forget about that scar, will they? You trip  _ once _ as a cadet, then you get a scar on your forehead that your brothers name you after and then never let it go.

“Save the antics for when we’re back on the  _ Stormspike _ ,” Dexter said. “And Neutron, your facial hair makes you look like more of a  _ di’kut _ than Smudge’s scar does anyways.”

Though obscured by his helmet, they could all tell that Neutron’s face was plastered with an expression of disbelief. Smudge and Kilowatt snickered at their brother’s reaction. Dexter didn’t often make comments like this, but the moments where he did were often cherished by the men who weren’t his target.

“What about Kilowatt’s mustache and goatee?” Neutron retorted. “They’re  _ worse _ than my aftershave.”

“ _ Hey _ !”

“At least Kilowatt pays attention to his hair instead of just letting it grow until he looks like a caveman,” Smudge fired back. “Unlike  _ someone _ .”

“What did I say?” Dexter sounded a touch annoyed. “ _ Quiet _ .”

“Sorry, Lieutenant.”

The mud-streaked, orange-painted armor of Captain Pike came into view after a few more moments of suffering through the gross squelching sound that the mud made each time one of the clones took a step.

When they were finally within reasonable distance of Captain Pike, Dexter saluted him. “Captain.”

Following their lieutenant’s lead, Smudge, Kilowatt, and Neutron also saluted him. Captain Pike returned their salute then pulled out a holoprojector. He turned it on to reveal a map of the region that their scouts from orbit had picked out as a viable search area for this kriffing droid factory.

“This area up ahead, it’s the only area that we haven’t been, so it’s the only area where the factory could be,” the Captain said as he pointed to a region on the holomap. “General Dozott wants eyes on this factory since the clankers haven’t shown themselves yet and he doesn’t want us walking into a trap. I’m assigning you four to this job.”

“Consider it done, sir,” Dexter said.

“Be quick, and stay safe out there,” Pike said. “Your mission is  _ strictly _ a scouting mission. If the clankers don’t know we’re here yet, let’s keep it that way.”

“We understand, Captain,” Dexter said. “Men, sync your chronos and move out."

“Yes, sir!” In a practiced move, the four of them tapped a button on their respective chronometers and held them near each other to sync. After a few seconds of the blinking lights slowly shifting in timing, the lights began blinking in perfect synchronization.

This was where their mission truly began.

Armed with their blasters and a layer of mud, the four scouts set out with Dexter in the lead, followed by Kilowatt, Smudge, then Neutron. The previous friendly atmosphere among them dissipated in an instant and was replaced by an air of seriousness that always accompanied their scouting missions.

Smudge tightened his grip on his DC-15 blaster rifle as he kept a watchful eye on the surrounding plants that could easily obscure a Separatist ambush. An ambush seemed unlikely since the 71st had yet to encounter any droid resistance, but there’s no reason why that wouldn’t change as they neared the factory. Especially since none of the 71st has seen any indication of a Separatist presence aside from the ship movements to and from the surface that the scouts from orbit had used to narrow down their search area.

For the most part, their trek was undisturbed. The only interruptions were the occasional animal that skittered across the clones’ path as they continued forward.

Based on what he could see of the sun’s position through the leaves overhead, Smudge assumed that it was late afternoon.

After a several more minutes of the tedious walk, Dexter suddenly raised his arm with his hand closed into a fist. The meaning was clear:  _ stop _ . Immediately, the three clones came to a halt, and it didn’t take long for it to become obvious why they were stopping.

The annoying voices of at least two B1s drifted through the densely-packed trees. Smudge couldn’t quite tell what they were talking about, but knowing them, it was nothing important.

“Smudge,” Dexter whispered, “go check out the clanker situation and report back. We’ll wait here for you.”

Smudge nodded. “Yes, sir.” Then, he began cautiously picking his way through the foliage, making as little noise as possible.

Until he knew exactly where the B1s were, Smudge was at higher risk of being detected. Good thing the kaminoans didn’t grow an idiot. Slowly and silently, he poked his way through the plants, letting the B1s’ prattling be his guide. Though his muddy armor offered him quite a bit of protection, he was careful to stick to cover. Which wasn’t all that hard in a dense jungle. Only someone incompetent wouldn’t be able to stay hidden.

In the end, it didn’t take Smudge long to get a clear line of sight to the clankers. A few meters from the cover of the jungle where he was hidden stood ten B1s and four SBDs. Now that he was closer, Smudge could hear the B1s’ conversation quite clearly. Two of the B1s were arguing about the weather, of all things. Or at least they were, until a third B1 called them idiots and told them to shut up, which sparked a new argument among those three B1s.

Behind the clankers loomed the door of a large structure that had been sloppily camouflaged with the local flora and mud. Aside from the droids and a conspicuous security camera, there wasn’t much else to look at. Clearly, the clankers and the camera were there to protect the entrance, but for what was supposed to be a rather substantial droid factory, this door was… underwhelming. Maybe this was a secondary entrance, and there was some grander entrance elsewhere that would better match his expectations.

Before heading back to the others, Smudge did a quick survey of the space for anything else of note. Nothing caught his eye, so he carefully made his way back to where his brothers were waiting. When he emerged from the foliage, Dexter and Neutron were directly in front of Smudge with their blasters pointed at him. Kilowatt had taken cover behind a tree immediately to his right, and if Smudge had to guess, he was prepared to incapacitate him silently. Once they realized that it was just Smudge, they relaxed.

“Nice to see you, too,” Smudge deadpanned in a hushed tone.

“Sorry, Smudge,” Kilowatt apologized, mirroring Smudge’s quiet tone. “We wanted to be ready in case you weren’t you.”

Smudge glared at him pointedly before turning to address his Lieutenant. “Sir, it looks like there are two B1s and an SBD guarding a door to the factory. Based on the size and lack of security, I’d say it’s just a back door.”

“That just raises some questions. Why the light security? Where are the rest of their forces?” Neutron commented. “Maybe we should try to take a look at the rest of the building.”

“Yes, we should,” Dexter agreed. “We’ll split into two groups. Neutron and Smudge, you two go around the edge of the factory to the right. Kilowatt, you’re with me. We’ll go to the left until we all meet up on the other side.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Stay in contact, boys,” Dexter said before disappearing behind a curtain of vines and leaves.

Before following Dexter, Kilowatt turned to face Smudge and Neutron. “If something happens to either of you, I’m gonna kill both of you.” Then he launched himself into the foliage.

Smudge rolled his eyes and shared a look with Neutron, who simply shrugged in response. That was just Kilowatt’s dramatic way of telling them to be safe, and they were pretty used to it by now. But Smudge wished he could have a credit for each time Kilowatt said something like that, then he might be able to purchase ownership of himself.

Together, they headed in the opposite direction from Dexter and Kilowatt. It took a minute or two for them to make visual contact with the factory’s outside wall, but aside from avoiding the three clankers guarding the back door and some randomly-placed security cameras, nothing much happened. Smudge focused on the factory so as not to be surprised by unexpected patrols or cameras, and Neutron kept his eyes glued to the ground in case there were any traps or mines to avoid.

After several minutes of slowly creeping their way around the mud-and-leaf-covered wall of the droid factory, Smudge noticed a faint, repetitive sound. He had to strain to hear it at all through the background noise of the jungle, but Smudge was pretty sure he detected the distinct clanking of the Separatist droids that he had come to know and hate.

“Stop for a second,” he whispered to Neutron. Neutron nodded at Smudge and stopped. “Do you hear that?”

“Yeah,” Neutron agreed quietly. “Sounds like a clanker patrol. Not very close by, though.”

“Mhm. Think we should lay low until they pass or keep moving until they’re closer?”

“Well…” Neutron was silent for a moment as he listened to the marching of the approaching patrol. “The mud’s definitely slowing them down. I think we could go a bit farther before we need to hide.”

“Alright, let’s keep going.”

With that, they continued on their way. Gradually, the sounds of the patrol became louder and louder. At the last few moments before their cover could be blown by this patrol, Neutron nudged Smudge and gestured with his head to a nearby tree’s roots. Most of the trees on this planet had massive webs of roots between the trunk and the ground with all sorts of gaps in between them. Smudge followed Neutron to an opening in the roots that looked just big enough for the pair to squeeze through if they sucked in their guts.

It took several stressful seconds of forcing the roots into awkward positions while the clankers’ clanking only got closer, but the two clones were able to safely shove themselves into their hiding place. The six-droid patrol, which seemed rather occupied with making the difficult trek through the mud, marched by at a hutt’s pace. Smudge almost groaned when the B1s’ endless complaining reached his ears. It never ceased to baffle him how a group of droids could talk so much without saying anything at all.

The B1s chattered away as they passed by Smudge and Neutron’s hiding place ever so slowly. At no point did any of them so much as glance at the roots that the clones were hiding in. If Smudge were patrolling in a place like this, he would  _ definitely _ check the trees’ roots as he went by since they’re prime hiding places for ambushes and scouts, but surprise surprise, that amount of thinking seemed beyond the B1s’ capabilities.

Once the patrol was a safe distance away, Neutron and Smudge extracted themselves from the tree roots. It took a minute or two (getting out wasn’t nearly as easy as getting in), but they were on their way again in no time.

Again, the journey was relatively uneventful. No additional patrols made an appearance, and the only thing they had to avoid were a few oddly-placed security cameras. Smudge had to wonder what kind of incompetent  _ di’kut _ was in charge here to have such weak external defenses. Only one patrol and a handful of security cameras? This was some advanced stupidity.

A large, heavily-guarded entrance finally crawled into view after many more minutes of wading through mud. That must be the main entrance, so where were Kilowatt and Dexter? Nudging Neutron to get his attention, Smudge compressed himself into the underbrush and scanned the area for signs of Kilowatt and Dexter. Neutron squatted down next to him and fixed his gaze on the droids guarding the entrance.

“We’ve got… eight SBDs… twenty B1s… two spider droids... and probably more clankers standing by somewhere out of sight,” Neutron muttered. “Looks like they might be expecting an attack.”

“Hm. D’you think they saw our ships?” Smudge asked quietly.

“Maybe, but why leave the front heavily guarded and neglect… well, everything else?”

Smudge shrugged. Before he could breathe a word of his opinion about how foolish the seppie in charge may be, a muted  _ beep _ emanated from his comlink. Smudge answered it quickly before it could alert the clankers. “Dexter? Kilowatt?”

“ _ We’ve made it to what looks like the main entrance _ ,” Dexter whispered from the other end of the comlink. “ _ How’s your progress? _ ”

“I think we made it to the same door, sir. Seems like they might be expecting our main forces.”

“ _ I agree. Let’s regroup before we report back. There’s a tree nearby that looks like a tallneck. Can you see it? _ ”

At first glance, Smudge couldn’t find any such tree, but luckily, Neutron had a better eye than him. With Neutron pointing helpfully, it was hard to miss the tallneck tree.

Huh. It really did look like a kaminoan.

“Yes, sir, I see it. Be there in five.”

“ _ Stay alert, boys. Dexter out. _ ”

Once the comm went dead, Smudge gestured towards the tallneck tree in an  _ after you _ fashion. Neutron nodded and took point while Smudge brought up the rear.

When they arrived at the base of the tree, Dexter and Kilowatt emerged from a hiding place within the tree’s complex roots. The four of them spent several minutes exchanging the details of what they had encountered since they last saw each other.

“So, two entrances, one heavily guarded and the other… guarded. Massive gaps in the building’s external defenses. Barely competent patrols. Seems almost too good to be true.”

“You can say that again, Lieutenant,” Kilowatt muttered. “They could be luring us in, making us think we have the advantage.”

“It could just be that they’ve put too much faith in the protection that they get from sticking the factory on a planet with dense plant life and horrible weather,” Neutron offered.

“What if they really are expecting us, though?” Smudge asked.

Neutron shrugged. “Hey, I’m just trying to rationalize it.”

Smudge glanced back in the direction of the droid factory. “If they really are expecting us, then there’s probably some nasty surprises waiting inside, and  _ that’s _ why the outside feels like a cadet’s failed defensive strategy project.”

“Well,” Dexter breathed, “good thing coming up with an attack strategy isn’t our job. Time to head back an’ give our report.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I promise all this is going somewhere, it's just taking some time to get there.


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